


A Night Of Neglect

by slbunnies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk-ish Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slbunnies/pseuds/slbunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's at the bar trying to get over a recent breakup when he gets an interesting proposal from someone he used to think of as an enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry slammed the empty shot glass down against the sticky bar top and called for another shot of the firewhiskey he had plans of drowning himself in tonight. He was halfway to having blurred memories already, on his fifth drink and counting, and looking to forget about the heart-crushing he had just endured.

A hand reached out to stop him from shooting back his next one and Harry sharply turned to glare down the person who had deigned to do so, fully intending to take his frustrations out on whoever had such nerve. He was stopped short at the sight of platinum blonde hair and piercing, steel grey eyes.

"Don't you think you should slow down a bit there, Potter?"

Harry simply gaped at the man, feeling like a fish out of water when he was only able to respond with a gulping noise. Draco Malfoy was probably one of the last people he had expected to run into tonight, or at any point really, at such a seedy place as the one he had chosen to drink in. The floors were caked with filth from multiple patron's boots, the tables covered in a slew of fluids he didn't even want to contemplate, and the rest of the place was so disgusting it made Harry grimace.

The bartender gave no indication that he intended to clean anything in the place. The dark and musty room with its ambience of despair wrought from the flickering candle light and the barely audible, slow music playing was not really Harry's scene either, but he hadn't chosen the place for it's beauty.

He nearly forgot about his drink as he took in the picture of his old school rival sitting there beside him but he soon regained what little composure he had left and sucked the drink back with a twisted face at it's fiery taste.

"Piss off, Malfoy," Harry told the man, turning back away from him to show that he was now being ignored, and waving down the bartender for another. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the trademark smirk grace Malfoy's features, but otherwise the man seemed unperturbed by Harry's remark.

"At least allow me to get the next one then," Malfoy said, scooting his bar stool in closer, the legs scraping the floor audibly. He pulled out his wand and gave the bar top a light rap to clear it of the sticky, liquid refuse. Harry snorted and waved for the bartender again, hoping the man would bring him the whiskey soon. Malfoy's hand also beckoned the man over and when they caught his attention they were each left with two shots of the same that the blonde had ordered.

"And why should I?" He snorted and slung the drink back anyway, coughing as it caught in his throat. Harry was quite unprepared for the sound of Malfoy chuckling, deep and pleasant. Not that Harry would ever admit to the latter part.

Ignoring Malfoy as much as possible, he flagged the bartender down again, asking for three more shots, and was once again surprised by the man next to him when he ordered the exact same then asked for everything to be doubles. He didn't seem the type to drink fire whiskey in the first place let alone double shots of the strong drink.

"You look like you could use it," was Malfoy's short response. It was weird, this interaction, like an odd and hazy dream Harry couldn't wake up from. It was less terse than he had expected it could be. They took the first shot at the same time and Harry glared at him suspiciously. Just because he was nearly three sheets to the wind did not mean he could go and let his guard down. This was Malfoy. He was just wired that way. As Moody had always intoned, 'Constant Vigilance!' And life had drummed that saying into Harry's very existence.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, resting both forearms on the bar and shuffling forward more to lean his weight against the solid wood. His eyes narrowed at the blonde even though he was starting to feel slightly woozy.

"What makes you think I want anything, Potter?" Malfoy said with an arched eyebrow, downing his other shot as if to say that he was there for the alcohol. Harry wasn't stupid and knew this wasn't the case. Even if it had been, for whatever strange reason, there was no way in hell that Malfoy would have deigned to inflict himself with Harry's company to get sloshed.

"Don't bullshit me. I'm not in the mood." He drank both his remaining shots in quick succession, slamming them down so hard that the last one had a crack speared up the side. Malfoy didn't seem startled at all by Harry's violent response.

Malfoy stared down his attitude calmly.

"No one should drink alone, Potter. You looked like you needed an ear..." Malfoy told him, "or someone to rant at," he finished off with a half smirk.

Harry grimaced and nodded before laying his forehead down against his now folded arms. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Malfoy finger the drop of whiskey running down his last shot as he waited for a verbal response from him. Harry just wanted another drink.


	2. Chapter 2

"I just got dumped by my lover of three years."

Draco wasn't sure what to say about that so he simply said nothing and ordered a few more drinks. It certainly explained the ex-Gryffindor's morose demeanor and sudden desire to binge drink. Potter lifted his head just enough to peer at him through a curtain of long hair, giving him one of those deep, contemplative looks, no doubt questioning the lack of a taunt from him. Draco drank his dripping whiskey to avoid staring into that dark, emerald gaze.

"He wanted something else... someone else... someone easier," Potter expounded without saying much of anything at all. Of course, Draco expected nothing less.

The breath in his chest stuttered for a second at the broken look on Potter's face. He looked like a man completely lost with nothing to look forward to. Draco bit his tongue to stop himself from commenting again, knowing that what he really wanted to say would most likely ruin whatever it was that was going on between them.

Here he was holding a civil conversation with the man who used to be the boy who had regularly starred in his dreams, and unfortunately also his nightmares, and he wasn't about to mess any of it up with some flippant comment bashing the man's newly ex-lover. No matter how much he really wanted to.

Instead, Draco layed a reassuring hand on Potter's upper arm and gestured to the shots lined up in front of them both.

"Nothing worth having is ever easy," he commented.

Potter gave him a queer look, tilting his head and lifting it fully from his arms.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," the messy-haired man said as he reached forward to take one of the drinks, tipping it back without grimacing at the burning sensation this time – which meant he probably didn't even taste it any more.

"It wasn't supposed to," Draco replied. He awkwardly moved his hand off of Potter's arm and back to his own leg. His hand was uncomfortably warm.

"I thought you were supposed to make me feel better?"

Draco quirked his lips and wiped his sweaty hand against the smooth fabric of his slate, grey trousers.

"Nothing I say would make you feel better," he stated, taking a shot of the whiskey for himself and knocking it back smoothly.

And Potter actually laughed.

"So what exactly is the Slytherin Prince doing in a dive like this?" Potter asked, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. He genuinely looked rather interested. Draco hid a smile by pretending to take a look at his surroundings. It wasn't somewhere he would normally be caught dead at, but he'd gotten a tip about Potter's whereabouts from someone who was close to the man and it had led him here.

"You mean what is a pretty thing like me doing in a hole like this? What, doesn't the ambience just scream Slytherin?" He joked, snorting at the incredulous look on Potter's face.

"Not even close, Malfoy," Potter responded instantly, giving him a quick once over. Draco shuddered as those eyes swept over his form. They still managed to effect him in the same way as when they were still children. Not that they were ever really children, but that was just semantics.

Draco looked directly into Potter's face and managed to keep a straight face as he said, "I was just in the area and felt like having a drink." They both knew he was lying.

He watched Potter's eyebrow raise elegantly into the fringe of his hair. Draco held his breath for a few seconds, his heart beating wildly as he waited to see what Potter would say about his obvious lie.

"That was the best you could come up with? And here I thought Slytherin's were cunning."

Draco chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and readjusting his position on his bar stool so he was turned more toward Potter. His knee wound up pressed into the man's leg. They both looked down at the same time to it, but neither of them moved.

"Sorry to disturb your notions of our old house traits," Draco commented, getting back to the conversation they were having, as odd of a one that it was.

"So you're telling me you're not cunning, ambitious, and resourceful?" Potter asked, a gleam coming to his eyes as if he was really starting to enjoy talking to him.

He decided no words were needed and only gave Potter a sly grin in response, causing the man to break out into laughter again. Draco hadn't thought it would be so easy to make Potter laugh, but he'd already done so twice, and that was just by being himself.

His heart rate sped up as he let Potter's deep, melodious voice wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I've decided to switch between POV's. For some reason I couldn't just stick with writing only Harry's. Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far. Any guesses to Draco's tip source?


	3. Chapter 3

It didn't take long for Harry to be drunk enough to forget that he was talking to Malfoy. Well, he was still aware of who it was, it just didn't seem to matter much any more.

"Not only did he show up late but he completely forgot it was m'birthday. He blew up at me in front of everyone... like, everyone... when I told him why we were partying. Who-" Harry took a big gulp of air to try and calm himself, "-who does that? It was my birthday. Stormed off 'fore I could even get a word in. Th' was the most 'barrassing birthday I've had in a long time."

"Sounds rather absurd. Did you follow him?"

Harry blushed as he realized who he was voicing his displeasures to but he felt a bit better getting it off his chest. And Malfoy looked like an avid listener, making appropriate comments every once in a while as Harry poured out his frustrations. He didn't even think he could drink any more but he kept talking anyway. Now that he'd started it was as if he couldn't stop.

"I did. It turned into a screamin' match. I heard every little thing he had a problem with come out all at once. How everything was my fault, that I was ignorant, naive, useless, a waste of time..." Harry choked on his words and stopped to gather himself. Malfoy gave him a concerned look but he ignored it. "Sometimes-sometimes I wasn't sure why I put up with his attitude, the direct snarky comments he would make."

Malfoy coughed to cover a laugh and Harry glared at him.

"You had a lot of practice putting up with snarky attitudes way before you dealt with him," the blurry blonde said pointedly, no doubt referring to himself and how he had acted during their days at school.

Harry snickered and wobbled a bit as he slipped from his seat. A steadying hand in the middle of his back kept him from falling until he had his bearings again.

"Thanks. I just... I didn't have to, y'know? Put up with it that is. I don't even know why I did in the first place. I don't even 'member any more why I liked him. He was an arrogant arse... even if he did have lovely hair," he continued saying, watching as Malfoy sipped at his drink of what was probably scotch or something equally expensive. And when had he ordered that? Harry shook his head trying to make sense of things. It just made his head spin.

"You okay there, Potter?" Malfoy asked, putting down his glass to reach out a hand to help him stay upright again.

"Yeah. Yeah – think so. Just feeling a bit light headed."

"Well don't fall over, the floor doesn't look like a good place to sprawl," Malfoy told him, making sure he could sit fine by himself before removing his grip on his shoulder.

Harry asked for a glass of water and went back to spilling his woes to his old rival after a few tense minutes of silence. He really needed to get everything out, even if it was to Malfoy of all people. Maybe it was better that it wasn't anyone he really knew.

"I'm not sure if I loved him any more either. It seemed whenever we were alone we didn't even get along, like we'd drifted apart." He nodded in thanks to the bartender who brought him a tall glass of water, not letting his eyes return to Malfoy's form. It was easier to talk when he wasn't looking at him directly. "I realize it wasn't a great relationship. But I had hopes. I thought we would make it work."

Malfoy was quiet. It seemed like he didn't want to talk and disturb his thoughts. He probably shouldn't have sounded so wistful. Harry knew the relationship was over - didn't want to get back into it anyway - but it was hard not thinking about how things could have been.

"The sex wasn't even that good," Harry commented with an exaggerated sigh, trying to get Malfoy to respond to him again.

He watched Malfoy open his mouth to say something but then abruptly snap it shut with an audible snap. Harry had no idea why he had blurted that out anyway. The silence was deafening.

"That's terrible," Malfoy finally responded, voice cutting through the awkward moment, downing the rest of his drink, "... go on." He waved his hand for Harry to continue talking but he didn't know what else to say now that he'd started a discussion about his sex life.

"Umm... I... just, you can ignore that last thing, Malfoy." Harry blushed furiously.

Malfoy licked his lips, pinning Harry down with a stare.

"Oh no, you started saying something interesting. You obviously need to talk about it or you wouldn't have said anything in the first place," the blonde suggested.

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and let his eyes drift across Malfoy's face. Even though he had been drinking shots of fire whiskey with Harry for the last hour or so, the man looked completely unruffled and still in complete control of his faculties. Unlike Harry, who had been slurring and falling over, and blurting out embarrassing things about his personal life. He gave Malfoy an appraising look and returned his gaze to the wooded grain of the bar when his vision started to double.

"I'm drunk as shit, Malfoy," he admitted, probably turning an unattractive shade of crimson as he felt his cheeks heat up again. "What, d'you want me to give you all the details? You want me to tell you how I lost my virginity to him, how he thought rimming was disgusting, how most of the time we never went further than sucking each other off?" Harry divulged, practically spitting out his last words. Of course Malfoy had no sense of personal boundaries, why would he? He was Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

 “I never said that,” Draco quietly told him, eyes soft with something akin to pity as he watched the other man cover his face with his hands. It was sort of endearing in a way, how easily he could make Harry Potter blush. He pryed those hands away from Potter's deliciously flushed face. “You can give me details if you want or not, it's up to you.”

“Sorry, dunno what came over me,” the fairly intoxicated brunette responded. “I-I... maybe it _was_ ju'somethin' I had to get off my chest,” Potter conceded.

Draco grimaced at the fact that his current companion was slurring his words. He wanted to talk with him more, even though he was getting tired of the gloomy ambience of the place, but it looked as if Potter's night was nearing it's end and it was getting very late any way. 

“Would you like to go some place and get a coffee with me?” He asked, hoping against all odds that he wouldn't get turned down. “Then you can tell me about anything else you need to get out.”

Potter looked at him warily, “I don't even know wha'time 't'is. It's pas' midnight, right? S'not my birthday any more?”

“It's two thirty in the morning, Potter. It wasn't your birthday when I arrived.”

“Oh. 'kay then. We can do coffee,” Potter replied without thought. Draco suddenly felt the man's hand grasping his own and then the rushed twisting feeling of being apparated.

He stumbled a bit as he attempted to gain some balance from the spatial transition. It didn't help that he had gone from sitting at a bar stool to standing upright. And it was dark. Draco had no idea where he was. He was irked that Potter had randomly apparated them both, while drunk, without his consent, without even any notice. Draco squinted around, trying to pick out any shapes in the blackness.

“Oh, ya... sorry. S'meant to be the kitchen not my bedroom,” he heard from Potter standing to the left of him, still clutching his hand tightly. The man shuffled his feet restlessly beside him. Draco was surprised that Potter was still vertical. 

He wanted to be mad at Potter for the abrupt transportation but he found it hard to bring up any such feelings. A bright flash of light emanated from Potter's outstretched wand, pulsing every few seconds like he couldn't keep it steady. Draco turned his eyes away to look around the room and the hand holding his own slipped away.

“This is your place?” He asked, eyes sweeping over the large, unmade bed in the center of the room.

Potter nodded his head. “Yeah, kitchen's this way,” he said, leading the way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Draco followed in silence, taking in whatever he could see on the way – which wasn't much. The place looked almost bare. He was sure that Potter lived there with his boyfriend. And speaking of which, Draco hoped the so-called 'ex' didn't show up. He did not want to meet him at all, as he would likely be unable to say anything even remotely kind. Or civilized. Or at all. He'd probably just take one look at him and punch him in the face.

He watched as Potter puttered around in the kitchen, obviously making them both coffee, clattering the cups together as he set them down on the table. Taking a seat, Draco reached into his pocket for the sobering potion he had stashed within and tipped a bit into both cups while Potter wasn't looking. It wasn't enough to sober them completely, but it would remove the effects of the last half a dozen drinks they'd had.

It didn't take long for Potter to finish making the coffee and he slowly poured the steaming liquid into their cups, trying not to spill any and making Draco wince every time he did.

“Umm, I don't... I...” the brunette stuttered, clearly unsure about what to talk about as they sipped their hot drinks. Draco didn't really like coffee much, but it had it's purposes. He could feel the effects of his potion right away, his head clearing and feeling much lighter, and his stomach settling back to it's usual un-jostled feeling.

“Do you want me to leave?” Draco questioned, hoping he didn't have to, but otherwise willing to do so if Potter demanded he did.

“No!” Potter blurted out, bringing his cup down on the table a little too hard and making half of his drink slosh over the side. He looked down at the mess with a sheepish expression. “This is weird,” he commented when neither of them spoke again for a few stretched out minutes.

“It could be more weird than this,” Draco responded, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, “I could be here for sexual favours.”

“But you're not,” Potter stated, spluttering and looking nervous about the direction their conversation was heading.

Raising an eyebrow in contradiction to what Potter assumed, Draco smirked and boldly said, “Only if you want me to be. You could sit on my face if you like, finally find out how it feels to have a tongue teasing your lovely arse open.”

“Oh gods... what?” He could see Potter's throat muscles clenching, trying to force more words out.

Draco licked his lips and wondered to himself when exactly he'd lost his mind that night. He was expecting a punch to the face any second. “You heard what I said,” he told him, looking directly into his widened green eyes.

Potter shut his eyes tight with a groan and Draco couldn't tell if the man was mortified or contemplating.

“Oh Merlin, you're serious?” Potter squeaked out.

He waited patiently for Potter to focus on his face. The man was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. Draco eyed the subtle shifting in his chair. That arse was as good as his. He licked his lips again and crossed his legs, drawing the man's gaze to his body.

“I'm very serious,” he said in a low whisper, just loud enough for Potter to catch the words from across the table, “you can sit on my face and I'll stick my tongue up your-”

“Fuck, Malfoy...” Potter cut him off with a little whimper that Draco almost didn't catch, “You can't just say things like that.”

“Are you sure? You're not interested at all?” Draco inquired, keeping his voice steady so he wouldn't sound too interested in it himself. He didn't want Potter thinking that it was the only reason he was there. It wasn't really the reason in the first place. The words had just ended up coming from his mouth and he'd went with them.

And now he was teetering on the edge of a figurative precipice hoping Potter didn't ridicule him, laugh in his face, and send him away. Not that he didn't want the pleasure of rimming the 'boy who lived' until he screamed Draco's name, of course.

It looked as if he'd made Potter speechless again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Harry felt as if his brains had been scrambled. He wasn't completely sure he'd heard Malfoy right at all and that this was all just some hazy, alcohol fueled dream. But then he looked into Malfoy's eyes. They were burning with something he couldn't explain.

“I... I...” he started, clearing his throat when it came out sounding rough, “I'm not-”

He stood up from his chair, the legs screeching across the floor as he pushed it backward. Gesturing wildly with his hands, Harry tried to wrap his brain around Malfoy's proposition as he paced. He didn't want to turn him down but he had no idea why. It was Malfoy for god's sake.

“What do you want?” Harry finally managed to ask, still fumbling disgracefully with his words as he stopped a few steps away from Malfoy's sitting form.

“I believe I've made myself as clear as I possibly can, Potter.”

Harry swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, feeling light headed again. Malfoy couldn't be serious, could he?

And then Harry found out how serious Malfoy was when he felt hands around his hips pulling him forward. With a noise he couldn't even identify, resembling something of a squawk, he was ungracefully pulled into Malfoy's lap. His hands went out to steady himself so he didn't wind up smashing their faces together by accident and he felt a strong chest in front of him.

He opened his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat. Half-lowered grey ones stared back at him. Harry was straddling Malfoy now, his legs hanging over the man's thighs, his toes just skimming the floor, their faces only a few inches apart. Malfoy's eyes were dark and they continuously roamed over his face as he brought his hands up to cup Harry's arse.

Harry hadn't been turned on that easily since... he couldn't even think of a time when. He bit his bottom lip hard to keep himself from moaning at the caress. Malfoy's fingers gently kneaded his prize, rubbing softly through Harry's thin trousers and causing him to arch his back into the feeling. He was starting to get hard and he felt embarrassed that it hadn't taken much.

The thought that Malfoy could probably feel his cock filling out against his stomach sent a pleasant shock of arousal up his body and Harry let out a small moan. His hands clutched at Malfoy's shirt as those fingers gripped him tighter.

Shivering, he felt a wash of air across his neck and he tilted his head back to expose the skin to Malfoy's warm lips. Harry was quickly losing himself in the unexpected pleasure of the blonde's touch. Damp lips made their way up his neck, a lithe tongue dipping out to trace his jaw line and then move up to brush behind his ear.

“Potter,” Malfoy whispered against his skin. His voice cut through the silence as he roughly squeezed the globes of Harry's arse pointedly. “You haven't said yes yet.”

It broke Harry from his almost stupor and he jerked upward so that they were no longer pressed so tightly together.

“Hey, I'm not going to hurt you,” Malfoy quickly assured him, sounding sincere about it. His hand came up and cupped Harry's face.

Harry had no idea when Malfoy had become this person. Someone who seemed to be a decent human being, someone he brought home with him, someone he lost himself to. Harry had no idea when he'd stopped hating the ex-Slytherin. It had possibly been after their fourth of fifth shot of whiskey.

“Why are you here?” He asked, unable to hide a slight tremor in his voice. He watched Malfoy bite his lip and it looked enticing.

“I've wanted your arse for years, Potter,” the man snapped out, his mouth quivering and a flush of color spreading across his cheeks. Harry realized his tone of voice was meant to cover what was possibly the truth. If he wanted to find out he would need to work through Malfoy's suddenly defensive demeanor.

“Only my arse?” Harry questioned. Malfoy's breath stuttered and his eyes darkened more, even as he narrowed them to a half glare.

“Does it have to be more than that?”

Harry slipped his fingers into Malfoy's hair and waited. He wasn't sure what for exactly. He was kind of winging things. Maybe for some indication that he was making the right choice, that he could trust Malfoy with something so intimate. He didn't need it to be anything more, not after literally just coming out of a relationship. But, he didn't know if he needed quite what this was.

Malfoy's body seemed to unravel a little and Harry could feel a stiff length against his arse as he settled down in his lap.

“Okay,” Harry simply said and then gasped as his mouth was covered by Malfoy's. He let out a noise of contentment, lips tingling as they kissed. A heady feeling came over him as their mouths frantically met with nipping teeth, their lips smacking together wetly and tongues finally dipping out to tangle in an effort to taste each other more thoroughly. Soft fingers slipped under Harry's shirt to feel the clenching muscles of his stomach.

“Fuck, Malfoy,” Harry said, panting as he pulled his mouth away, his lips red and wet and swollen from Malfoy's desperate mouth. Nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt quickly and brushed the fabric out of the way. He squirmed in Malfoy's lap as the man bent forward to run his tongue across Harry's bared chest. Malfoy bit, licked, and sucked at what ever skin he could reach, teasing his nipples to points with swift flicks of his tongue until Harry was shaking and pulling on the man's hair too tightly.

“Easy there,” Malfoy said, bringing his hands back down to cup Harry's arse almost reverently. “Bedroom?” He asked as he lifted Harry and stood from the chair. Malfoy hadn't looked that strong, but obviously looks were deceiving if the man could so easily lift him like that.

“Yes. Fuck yes, Malfoy.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entire chapter of porn. Your welcome.

Having already been to Potter's bedroom, Draco did not need to ask the way, and he strode quickly to the room depositing the alluring man onto the messy bed with a small toss. A few pillows scattered, but Potter ignored them and sunk into the bed, his eyes watching Draco with a blazing intensity that had him feeling like he'd run out of breath all of a sudden.

He didn't even tease him, though it seemed like the opportune time for it. Draco needed to feel Potter up against him as soon as possible. Unable to wait a moment longer, now that he was allowed the pleasure, he stripped out of his clothes, nearly ripping his shirt in his haste. When he was done, he knelt on the edge of the bed and nimbly stalked the length of Potter's body until they were face to face. Their lips easily came together as he straddled Potter's waist, eager hands reaching out to take hold of Draco's hips in a tight grip, pulling him down closer.

They were frantic with their need, now that they'd let themselves not only acknowledge it but embrace it readily. It took their combined efforts to rid Potter of his clothes, incapable of keeping their hands off each other for too long, lost in the passion of touching, and claiming, and feeling.

Draco's breath hitched, noting that Potter's did as well, when they're naked bodies finally rubbed together for the first time. He let out a tiny uncontrolled moan, instantly grinding his hips down, suddenly more desperate than he should have been, because he'd been at least half-hard the majority of the time since their encounter at the bar, and he needed... he needed--something... Draco couldn't really think about what exactly that was any more. Not with Potter pushing back against him with nearly the same ardour, the brunette wrapping his legs tightly around Draco's thighs, hands scrabbling at his back until his nails dug in.

“Malfoy... oh shit, Malfoy,” Potter grunted out, pushing his face into the curve of Draco's neck.

He realized that if he didn't want it all to end just then and there he would have to stop. Or at least slow down. Groaning at the thought, he pulled away, lips twitching into a smile when Potter tried to follow his hips upward. Draco pushed him back down onto the bed with one hand, thumb running up along his jutting hip to hold him in place for a second.

“Don't come, Potter,” Draco whispered, dipping his head back down to tease the man's dusty pink nipples to hardness with the tip of his tongue, circling around the tightening flesh until Potter began to writhe. Potter let out a delicious whine and his hands came up to clutch at Draco's pale blonde hair.

“Malfoy. Stop fucking teas— _unh_ ,” Potter tried to say, nearly jumping out of his skin as Draco took the other one between his teeth and pulled.

“I need you to move over,” Draco said, raising his eyes to Potter's flushed face as his tongue flicked out to taste the salty sheen that had broken out across his skin.

“What--Malfoy, what are you on about?” Potter replied, shifting out of his spot any way to make room for Draco beside him.

Draco lay back on Potter's bed, right in the middle where Potter had lain, feeling the warmth left over creep along his body. He sighed and got comfortable, scooting down the bed a bit so that his heels hung over the edge at the bottom.

“Just get over here, Potter,” Draco directed, reaching out for Potter to straddle him. The man complied, settling over his stomach, a warm and pleasant weight atop him. It wasn't exactly what Draco had in mind but it was a start. He cupped Potter's arse in both of his hands, watching him inhale sharply and rock backward into his touch. Draco pulled him forward a little, squeezing with his fingers when Potter tried to arch away in shock.

“Come closer,” he told Potter, his voice giving the sense that he was in charge and that Potter would be rewarded with vast amounts of pleasure if only he listened. Potter shifted his knees and scooted forward. Draco rewarded him by petting at his arse, dipping in between his cheeks to lightly graze across that hidden place that had Potter trembling and whimpering.

“Please.”

It would've been nice to hear him begging but Draco needed just as much as he did, so he yanked him forward, forcing him to move his knees and spread his legs wider as he was placed where he wanted him. Potter gasped and looked down, hands slamming against the headboard to hold himself upright as his thighs strained and quivered.

“Oh, fuck... what are you--what are you doing?” Potter asked, licking his dry lips, voice thick and desperate in it's lust as he hovered over Draco's face.

“Licking your arse open just as I told you I would,” Draco responded before stretching his neck out and proceeding to do just that. He spread Potter's arse gently and tilted his hips forward as much as he could before starting at the top and licking straight along his crack, feeling Potter clench against his tongue as the man gave a wanton moan. Draco lazily traced his way back up and then did it again, stopping to mouth his tightening testicles.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck... oh gods...” Draco could feel Potter's thighs tighten around his head as the man swivelled his hips, searching for Draco's tongue against his hole again. He gave it to him, twirling around the pulsing opening again and again, wetting the skin until it became pliant and spit dribbled down his chin.

Potter couldn't keep quiet, swearing and making the sweetest little whimpering noises as he began to rock himself down onto Draco's face. And he hadn't even breached him yet. Draco's cock twitched helplessly, pre-come dribbling out onto his stomach, and he let go of his hold on Potter's perfect, just fucking perfect arse to reach down and mercilessly grip himself tight. 

He sucked firmly at the wrinkled skin of Potter's hole and then traced the edges with the very tip of his tongue, moaning at the musky taste and loving every second of Potter's undulating body begging for more.

Finally--finally, Draco pushed his tongue against the tight, saliva-slick rim, nudging his tongue forward slowly into the heat of Potter's little, clenching hole. It practically sucked him in, greedy and wanting, and he gave in, filling him with it as much as was possible.

“Yes! Oh, Malfoy, fucking hell!” Potter shouted, sounding strangled as he sipped in his breaths raggedly between words. And then Draco held on as Potter began riding his face, using his tongue to take his pleasure, body wreathing when Draco managed to suck or nip at his opening.

Draco loved it. He could eat Potter's arse all night if he had to. The taste was mild, his tongue was tingling and his lips were slick and bruised. His neck hurt as he strained upward but he didn't care, it was all fantastic. The way Potter was losing control, using Draco as he liked as he chased after his nearing ecstasy, was driving him mad with his own desire. He thrust his tongue faster as Potter started to beg him.

“Please. Please, Malfoy. I need--” Potter attempted to reach down and take his own cock in hand, red and weeping and surely needing some attention, but he started slipping sideways and had to slow his hips to practically nothing to keep from losing his position. “Fuck, please--fuck, _Draco_ , please,” Potter whined in distress.

Draco lifted Potter off his face by his hips and manoeuvred them around quickly so that Potter was on his hands and knees, holding himself up unsteadily and making a distraught sound as he looked over his shoulder at him. Draco gave him a feral grin, biting back a snarl as he spread his arse apart and pushed his face back where it belonged. He sucked at the furrowed skin hard before roughly spearing his tongue back into him.

His fingers were probably leaving marks he was pulling on his cheeks so hard. He let go of one side and trailed his fingers around Potter's hip to curl around his erection, spreading the sticky fluid around the head and then tightening his grip to slide along the hard length.

Potter thrust forward and then back again, unsure which direction would give him his release the fastest, gaining pleasure from both sensations. Draco moaned into his skin and swirled his tongue around in quick circles, feeling the tightening walls of Potter's anus against his tongue. He was close.

He jacked just the end of Potter's cock and waited for his inevitable release, forcibly licking inside him and making Potter feel it, feel everything Draco's mouth could give him.

And then he didn't have to wait any more. Potter grunted a few times and then bit down on his pillow, groaning deeply into the fabric as his hips pumped back and forth rapidly, his cock pulsing out a burst of come across Draco's hand, the little slit widening and winking as it shot the fluid out in copious amounts. Draco let Potter ride it out and slowed down, tongue languidly pushing it's way into him until he squirmed away.

He listened to the man breathing hard as he collapsed, wiping his own mouth with the back of his hand and watching Potter's tan, heaving back as he caught his breath. Draco took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke, not expecting anything out of Potter after making him come. He'd got what he wanted, he'd tasted Potter, had had him riding his face as he ate him out - Draco bit his lip, it wasn't going to take long for him to reach his orgasm any way. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. I've had over half of this written for a while now, but I've been very sick, unable to speak, hacking my face off sick, and I took a break from writing. But I'm back now, so hopefully the next one won't take me as long.  
> I don't know if anyone enjoyed the last chapter at all, too much porn?

Harry took a few moments to breathe before rolling over to help Malfoy out. After that brilliant experience he was more than willing to assist Malfoy with whatever he needed at that moment. The man was smoothly stroking himself, blonde hair falling into his face as he slowly moved his wrist, staring Harry down like he was about to ravage him again. 

He shuffled forward and kissed Malfoy hard, taking control of him with possessive thrusts of his tongue and pulling on the fine strands of his hair as he held him in place for his mouth. Malfoy shook in his arms, panting heavily as his hand sped up to strip along his cock at a pace that seemed like it would be painful. 

Giving one last lick to the inside of his mouth, Harry dropped down, wrapping his lips around the leaking head that was just pushing through Malfoy's grip. Moaning indecently, Malfoy loosened his grip and held himself at the base for Harry's insistent mouth. 

“Potter, that's--shit, that's... yeah, just like that.”

Harry grinned around his mouthful, enjoying himself immensely, the sounds coming from above making him suck harder. He really liked doing this. And Malfoy's reactions made it all that much better. He didn't even bother holding Malfoy's hips in check, opening his throat to the little thrusts the man couldn't hold back and taking him in deep. He liked that too. Harry gave a muffled groan at the feeling of fingers pulling on his hair.

That grip kept him in place as Malfoy pumped himself forward into his mouth and Harry looked up at his face, watching his brows pinch together and his mouth slowly slackening as he came closer to his release. It was beautiful. And then Malfoy's eyes suddenly snapped down to Harry's face and he felt warm spunk shooting down his throat, spilling along his tongue, and dripping down the dip of his chin. 

He slid his mouth along Malfoy's cock a few more times, licking every trace of come away, tonguing and sucking the tip to wring every last drop from him. Malfoy looked down at him in amazement the entire time, although it seemed as if he could barely stay upright. Harry let him fall out from between his swollen lips and grabbed Malfoy's arm to pull him down to lay. That was better.

“Potter, that was...” Malfoy started to say, panting as he moved around to get comfortable beside Harry. He didn't say more and Harry was curious about what he was going to say. What was it? He nudged Malfoy's shoulder with his own.

“It was what?” 

Malfoy inhaled sharply through his nose, sitting up suddenly from the bed. 

“It was good. I should probably get out of here,” Malfoy said quickly, flinging his legs out over the edge of the bed. 

“What? Wait, where are you going? You don't have to leave,” Harry told him, sitting up and reaching out to stop the blonde from going. Malfoy didn't answer him. He watched Malfoy get up and gather his clothes from off the floor. Harry got up too, not caring that he was naked still, and walked over to the man who had, in a single night, given him the most pleasure he'd ever experienced.  
“Draco Malfoy, stop trying to run away,” he demanded, pulling the man in close to kiss him.

Malfoy made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, going completely still against him, and dropping whatever clothes he had been holding back onto the floor. Harry brought him in even closer, tight against his body as he moved his mouth against him, plying the Slytherin with kisses. Malfoy's mouth eventually became slack, opening to let Harry's tongue taste whatever he would. Harry loosened his hold, smiling as the blonde didn't make a move to leave again.

“I wasn't running away. I just--I shouldn't stay. What if...” Malfoy pulled away and licked at his lips as if savouring the taste Harry had left on them, “... what if your ex comes back?” 

Harry rose his eyebrow at that. He hadn't really thought about that at all, but he also didn't care one bit about it happening. There wasn't much left for them to say to each other any way. 

“Are you scared, Malfoy?” he teased, stepping back to sit on the foot of his bed, bouncing slightly off the mattress as he gave Malfoy a large, uninhibited grin. “You don't have to worry about my ex. I had almost completely forgotten about him for a moment there.”

“I'm not scared. I just don't want to have to punch the little shit in the face,” Malfoy exclaimed, turning kind of red and making Harry grin even harder. “It would just be terribly awkward, that's all. And I don't do awkward, Potter. Like right now... right now is starting to become awkward.” He started gathering his clothes again.

Harry sighed and watched the determined man start to dress. Well, he wasn't going to fight with him to stay. He just didn't really want to be alone. And, Malfoy's company had proven to be more than just pleasant. 

“Hey, Malfoy?”

“What, Potter?” 

“Does this mean that now I can tell everyone you've kissed my arse?” 

Malfoy's head whipped around and Harry was caught in the man's narrowed stare. His lips were pursed like he was holding back a tirade of insults. Harry had to stop himself from laughing. He had just been teasing the man.

“I could possibly, y'know... return the favour... at some point. Then we'd be even,” Harry continued, swallowing at the change in Malfoy's gaze at his blatant suggestion.

“We'll see, Potter,” Malfoy said, swiftly doing the buttons of his shirt up with nimble fingers, voice dripping with something Harry could only describe as pure sex. He shivered. It was possible that he was in way over his head with this. It was Malfoy after all.

“I'll see you sometime, Potter,” Malfoy told him, slipping into his shoes and taking up his wand to apparate away. Harry noticed the smirk that graced his features just before he popped out of existence, well at least out of his bedroom.

Harry flopped backward onto his bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I had some severe writer's block for a bit there so I spent my time reading and beta'ing, trying to get back in the mood to continue writing. I liked writing this chapter a lot for some reason.

Chewing on the end of his quill, a bad habit he had picked up from his days at Hogwarts, Draco pondered over the letter he had received. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hanging hair, which fell across his forehead and into his eyes, in the way of his reading. The handwriting was barely legible. 

He squinted at the slanted, obviously hastily written words, attempting to decipher some unknown meaning hidden behind them. But as far as Draco could discern there wasn't any. It was simple enough to understand - Harry Potter wanted to see him again. Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and ignored the sharp pain of his own teeth as he bit down on it. 

It had been over a week since the night that Potter had taken him home from the bar. Nine days, to be exact; excruciatingly tense days spent with Draco half-hard, at least, and trying not to imagine the 'chosen one's' firm, smooth backside and his amazingly talented mouth. He was lucky that his job required him to wear robes so that the state of his arousal remained hidden while he worked.

Draco read the words in Potter's letter again even though he'd read the thing a hundred times already. It was short and to the point, simply asking Draco to meet with Potter later at seven for some supper. Was it a date? He had no idea. It certainly seemed that way. 

Potter wasn't asking him for a bite to eat at the Leaky, he was inviting him to dine with him at 'Nova', a posh restaurant, owned by the equally sophisticated witch Estrella Sharpe, that was notoriously expensive and had a waiting list that managed to require it's own waiting list.

Looking at the clock on his fireplace mantel, Draco groaned to himself – if he was going he wouldn't have much time to get ready. He hadn't even decided whether he would or not yet. He threw his arms up in frustration and stood from his chair to stomp out of the sitting room and into his bedroom. It was a good thing he had a multitude of elegant outfits for such occasions or he wouldn't have even deigned to consider accepting Potter's half-arsed invitation.

He donned a light, charcoal suit over top of a pale blue button up. It fit him like a glove, shaped perfectly to his form, accentuating his long legs and slim waist. Spelling his hair into some semblance of tidiness, Draco looked at himself in the full length mirror. It would have to do. 

Draco was already late, so he took up his wand and apparated straight to the foyer of the restaurant from his bedroom. He took a quick look around and didn't spot Potter right away. He must already be at a table. Suddenly, a server appeared, at Potter's bequest to direct Draco through to the dining area, where Potter was indeed seated at a quaint little table, situated in a private area and waiting for him.

Potter stood from the table when he spotted Draco. He almost didn't notice the man's response at seeing him, his eyes darkening almost imperceptibly as he licked his lips, because he was too busy doing the same thing as he observed the brunette's delectable form. It looked like he cleaned up well. Draco's knees nearly went weak at the sight of Potter dressed in a slim, dark green suit, with white and black accents of his shirt and tie. It was a rather bold choice but somehow the man pulled it off with ease. 

“Malfoy, glad you could make it,” Potter said, only sitting after he had waited for Draco to take his own seat across from him. 

“Well, let's just say I found it difficult to refuse. I was intrigued,” Draco replied, getting comfortable and unbuttoning his jacket and watching Potter do the same. 

It was odd that they were meeting in such a formal setting, dressed in suits, and dining together in public where anyone could see them. He supposed that was probably why their table was private. And private in the Wizarding world meant practically undetectable unless you were invited. But, it kind of threw him off balance. The last time they had been in each other's company had been somewhere completely opposite of 'Nova'. 

Draco couldn't help looking around, taking in the elegant, subdued atmosphere. He'd never been there before, even though he was a Malfoy and a distinguished member of society, in fact he was still on the waiting list. It made him a little hot under the collar to know that Potter had managed to secure a table for them so easily. 

He returned to looking back at Potter just as he was taking a sip from his drink, what looked to be a Mint Julep, and the man gave him a wide smile that Draco couldn't help but return. They were interrupted by the waiter.

“Excuse me sir, would you like to take a look at our drink menu?”

Before he could reply, Potter responded, “We'll have a bottle of Superior Red, please, unless of course you'd like something else?” Draco shook his head and quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“I'm pleasantly surprised, Potter. You are aware that you have just ordered a thousand year old wine procured from my own Apothecary, right?” 

Potter laughed, nodding as he answered, “Yes, I'm aware. I figured you'd prefer it. It's quite delicious any how.”

Draco didn't care either way, he'd drank it on enough occasions that it wasn't really special to him any more, he would've been fine with any wine as long as it was red, but it was nice of Potter to consider him. 

“Thank you. It is a rather good wine and infinitely better than the shots of fire whiskey we last imbued together.” Honestly, Draco was surprised that Potter even drank the stuff considering his previous tastes. 

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” Potter replied, hanging his head a little as a light blush formed on his cheeks, “that was kind of embarrassing, though it is part of the reason why I asked you here. So I could make up for the drunken display from last time and apologize for you having to witness that.”

He scoffed and waved a hand at him, “No apologies necessary, Potter. I think you more than made up for it later on.” Draco found himself blushing along with him, his mind wandering back to that night, of being in Potter's bed... he coughed and leaned back in his chair a bit when the waiter reappeared with a bucket of ice and the wine.

They ordered their food shortly after and made pleasant small talk during their wait, discussing their occupations and friends, and staying away from any topics that could cause an argument. Draco knew that eventually that would be impossible to achieve, but for the time being, while they waited patiently for their food, it seemed to work. Potter was rather funny. He was blunt with his observations, even when they weren't exactly nice ones, and Draco found himself covering his mouth more than a few times to stop himself from snorting as he laughed.

They hadn't even been served their meals yet and the fabric of Draco's pants was stretched tight across his lap as he hardened beneath the cover of the table. He blamed it on Potter's dashing smiles and twinkling eyes, and mostly the smooth, deep voice that rumbled out from his chest when he laughed in a way that made Draco's skin tingle and tighten. 

He noticed that Potter only sipped at his wine, barely drinking a glass of it by the time they were nearly done eating. Draco, on the other hand, was on his third glass, needing the blood-red liquid to keep himself relaxed. Although it wasn't helping in his struggle against the urge to fling himself across the table into Potter's well-muscled and defined arms. He had taken off his jacket and Draco had difficulty tearing his gaze away from the white fabric clinging to his upper body. He hoped he wasn't drooling.

Draco downed the rest of his wine and pushed his nearly empty plate of Chicken Marengo away. It had been delicious. He sat patiently while Potter finished telling his story in between bites of saffron spiced potato. 

“... and I was tied to the chair as Hermione berated me! She went on for hours, about how I shouldn't have just run off like that, that no one knew where I'd gone to, and how they were all so worried about me. It's not like anything bad happened. And I had let Fred and George know where I'd gone, so it wasn't as if I'd just up and disappeared. It wasn't my fault they didn't let anyone know.”

He gave Potter a weak smile. Well, technically the Weasley terrors had let someone know, but Draco wasn't going to correct Potter on that. He'd just wonder why they had chosen to tell Draco, of all people, and then he would have to explain how he'd been crushing on Potter for years, and that the red-headed duo had figured it out for themselves and had mercilessly teased him for a whole year straight about it, and... and he wasn't ready for that level of honesty quite yet.

“Did she take your wand away, too? And here I thought you were an Auror, Potter. It's pitiful of you to have let Granger disarm you like that,” Draco teased, chuckling as Potter scowled at him and then broke into laughter along with him.

“Yeah, I suppose it was rather pitiful,” Potter paused and finished off his own wine, leaving them in an awkward silence. Draco didn't like awkward silences. 

He was about to ask for the check when Potter spoke again, his voice low and quiet, a contrast to the boisterous conversation from before, and caused Draco to nearly choke on his breath. 

“So, have you thought more about my offer to return the favor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn, so much porn... because I felt like it. And I'm really bad at leaving it right at that spot in the story that probably makes you want to hunt me down and strangle me for it. Sorry.

Harry hoped that he didn't seem too nervous as he waited for Malfoy to respond. The man looked absolutely edible tonight, especially when his face started to become suffused with a delicate, pink color. He had been trying not to stare intently at Malfoy the whole time, not wanting to seem like a creep, or scare him away, even though it was hard to tear his eyes away from looking at the Adonis blonde.

“I have,” Malfoy replied, speaking slowly and carefully. Harry watched him pour another glass of wine and gulp some of it down, and he smiled at how easily the man had become flustered. “I'm not sure that would be the best idea, Potter.”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, Harry smiled a little mischievously, “Well, I'm open to suggestions,” and then he blatantly let his legs fall open so that his knee was pressed into Malfoy's leg. 

He felt Malfoy's leg twitch as they stared each other down. Harry was slightly amused at Malfoy's lack of speech but he was far more interested in the way his eyes looked as if they were undressing him. He licked his lips and reached into his pocket for some galleons, setting an unknown handful down against the table and hoping it was enough to pay the bill. 

“Come home with me, Malfoy,” Harry told him, his eyes still pinning the man to his seat even as he reached for the jacket to his suit and slung it over his arm. He stood and, without hesitation, reached a hand out to him. Malfoy's chest stopped moving for a few seconds as if he had ceased breathing and then he, just barely, nodded, slipping his hand into Harry's as he got up from the table. 

“I think I'm a little drunk, Potter,” Malfoy told him, leaning into him a bit when he was upright.

“That's okay, I'll take care of you, Malfoy” he replied, pulling Malfoy even closer against his side as they walked out of the dining area to the foyer where they could safely apparate. It was good that Harry had barely drank anything alcoholic, not that it mattered much any way as he could apparate under any circumstance, even intoxication. It was a gift.

“Ready?” 

He grinned as he felt Malfoy's hand sneak around his waist and down to cup his arse - Harry apparated them away.

They stumbled into each other and Harry held Malfoy by the waist to stop them from tumbling over. Malfoy took a look around and then smirked up at him.

“I think you apparated a little off again, Potter,” the blonde remarked, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth as he took in Harry's large, four poster bed. 

Harry chuckled, “Oh no, not this time,” he pulled Malfoy in closer, sliding his thigh between his legs as their hips came together, “I meant to be in the bedroom this time.”

Malfoy flushed and turned his head away, looking shy and uncertain, even though he didn't move out of Harry's embrace. It was a complete change from the boldness he had shown the last time they had been in a similar situation. Harry thought it was cute. It was probably because Harry was the one initializing everything this time around.

And he was just completely enraptured with the man now, wasn't he? It was all Malfoy's fault for looking so ethereal with his fair complexion and beautiful, silver hair, and how he was blushing so prettily at Harry's proposition. He continued to surprise Harry at every moment.

Running a hand up Malfoy's back, Harry brushed his fingers along the back of his neck before cupping his head. He brought his mouth forward and kissed Malfoy's cheek, lightly, lingering as he brushed his lips over soft skin toward his parted mouth. 

Malfoy turned his head to meet his mouth in a hard kiss, his hands moving to grip Harry's hips, and he let out a small moan at the contact. He could easily become addicted to this. 

“You taste good,” Harry muttered as they parted for a breath, their lips still touching. He opened his eyes and felt as if he was caught in the darkened, grey ones staring back at him. Malfoy's pupils were blown wide and his tongue slipped out from between the seam of his mouth to graze across Harry's bottom lip, teasingly tracing his tingling flesh like he wanted to savour Harry's own exquisite taste.

Harry started to back Malfoy up, unbuttoning his jacket and pushing it down off his shoulders, momentarily fingering the buttery, smooth fabric and moving until they hit the bed. He pushed him down onto it and straddled him, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt, his tongue tracing every dip and curve of Malfoy's mouth.

“Fuck, Potter,” Malfoy panted against his lips, his hands pushing up under Harry's shirt to caress his skin. Harry hummed at that and pulled his mouth away for a second to push the man's shirt off the rest of the way.

“You can... if you want,” he answered mindlessly, nearly salivating at the sight of Malfoy shirtless, his small, dusky, pink nipples and his muscled stomach, and that delicious line of his hipbones jutting out above his tailored trousers. Harry wanted to lick every exposed inch of what he saw. “Please.”

Malfoy practically ripping Harry's shirt off of him brought him out of his stupor and he helped get rid of his own clothes, wiggling and shifting around to pull his trousers and pants down his legs at the same time. Fully naked, he pushed the blonde back to lay down and settled atop him, smiling as Malfoy attempted to grind his pelvis up into Harry's.

Bringing his hand down between Malfoy's legs, he cupped him through his trousers, “Here, let me help you out with that.” Harry first unbuttoned and then pulled them down his long legs, throwing them across the room, uncaring of where they landed because he was too preoccupied with taking in the view of Draco Malfoy spread out naked across his sheets.

His hands wandered over soft skin, pulling gasps and moans from the blonde's mouth, tracing his fingers over his inner thighs, giving his hips a pinch, and running his nails up his stomach, before teasing his nipples into tightening on his chest. Harry licked them to little points, feeling Malfoy rut against his stomach, leaving the slick feeling of pre-come against his skin.

He smiled up at Malfoy and trailed kisses along the soft skin of his stomach, following the light dusting of hair down toward his completely hard penis. Harry took him into his mouth, laving his tongue around the smooth shaft as he peered up at Malfoy's face, tasting the salty fluid that had been leaking copiously from the tip. 

Malfoy groaned, his hips rising from the bed, “Fuck, you're so good with your mouth,” he admitted, his fingers threading through Harry's dark hair. Harry sucked harder, dropping down to take him in deep, and swallowing around his length. 

He was rather good at it. He'd had a lot of practice in his last relationship, as that was mainly all they had done sexually. At least Harry enjoyed doing it, especially with Malfoy, who couldn't keep his sounds of enjoyment back and had troubles keeping his hips still, the gasps of 'Potter' as he petted his hair reverently making Harry's own cock stiffer than ever.

“Fuck. I'm going to come if you don't stop,” Malfoy said, his eyes clenched shut as Harry again swallowed him down to the root. He could feel him twitch in the back of his throat, causing him to almost gag, and Harry smoothly pulled off, licking his lips. He was pulled down against Malfoy and roughly kissed until he couldn't breathe properly any more. 

“I want to ride you, Malfoy,” Harry told him, speaking against his lips, feeling absolutely needy as he rubbed himself against Malfoy's cock, wet with his saliva. “Gods, I've been thinking about it ever since you ate me out... what it would've been like...” Malfoy's hands clutched at his arse, “...if I had just moved back and slid down onto your cock, let it stretch me open,” those hands started kneading, pulling his cheeks apart, and Harry felt himself exposed to the cool air of the room, “Do you want that, Malfoy? Do you want me to ride your cock?”

Malfoy whimpered, shaking his head rigorously, managing to respond with a breathy, “Yeah. Please.”

“You'll have to get me ready first then. I've only done this once before,” Harry said, kissing the little dip in Malfoy's chin, feeling like he should let the man know beforehand of his inexperience. It was true, he had only ever bottomed the one time, and it hadn't been a very pleasant experience, but Harry was keen to try again, especially since Malfoy had made him feel so good with just his tongue. 

“Lube?” Malfoy asked, already teasing Harry's opening with the tip of his index finger, clearly eager to proceed. Harry reached over to his bed side table and grabbed the necessary lubrication from the drawer, passing it to the man underneath him, feeling nerves shoot up his spine as Malfoy continued to massage his arse hole with the pad of his finger.

“Just, go slow,” he said, trying to relax as he waited for Malfoy to slick his fingers. He jumped at the cold feeling when they came back to his arse, sliding along his skin in a pleasant way. He took a deep breath and that's when Malfoy slipped a finger inside. 

Harry arched up, a keening sound coming up from his throat as the finger twisted and slowly worked it's way deeper. He rocked back against it, holding himself up with his hands on Malfoy's shuddering chest. It felt good. There was only a small, dull ache that was easy to ignore next to the pleasure of having something inside him.

“You can...” Harry swallowed at the dryness of his mouth, “you can do another one.”

“Okay,” Draco absent-mindedly replied, focusing on what he was doing, another one of his fingers rubbing against the rim of Harry's entrance before pushing it's way up into the tight heat. Harry winced a little, unused to being so open, breathing harder as the two fingers stretched him. 

Malfoy grinned wickedly at him and pressed them in deep, shifting his wrist back, and--

“Oh! Oh! My god, right--fuck, right there,” Harry cried out as he felt an explosion of pleasure from inside his arse, his pelvis feeling warm and tingly, and he drove himself down onto Malfoy's fingers, not caring about the little bit of pain that was already melting away. 

“You like that? Want it again?” Malfoy teased, fucking him properly with his fingers now, having an easier time sliding them in and out of Harry's gripping arse because he was trying to get them inside of himself now. Harry didn't even have to answer as Malfoy found the spot again and rubbed at it with little circling motions. 

Harry's whole body shook with delight and he didn't even notice the slide of an extra finger as Malfoy teased the spot over and over again.

“Do you want my cock yet?” Malfoy asked, pulling Harry's head down to whisper it against his lips, his voice sounding low, and husky, and raw with need. And Harry did want his cock. He wanted it like never before. 

There was a little part in the back of his brain that asked him if he was crazy, that this was Draco Malfoy he was about to have sex with, but Harry pushed it aside, grinding himself down on the man's fingers. 

“Yes, I want it, want you inside me.”

Malfoy groaned, yanking his fingers free and grabbing at the lube to get himself ready. Harry found it first and he put some onto his hand, then reached back and rubbed the slippery substance along Malfoy's cock. 

He wanted Malfoy so badly that his stomach was clenching in anticipation. Once he was done preparing Malfoy, Harry slid two fingers into himself to make sure he was ready, adding more lube and making sure he was really slick just to be on the safe side. 

“Potter, you're killing me here,” Malfoy said as he watched Harry sitting astride him with his own fingers up his arse.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling his fingers free and shifting back so he was positioned correctly, right over top Malfoy's pelvis, spreading his legs wider, “I'm ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter just broke my 100K mark overall in my statistics! Wow, I must write a lot of porn.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much porn... I'm sorry it took so long, I had writer's block. I think the next few chapters will be practically porn free, as much as I can make them anyway, since I've been writing whole chapters of porny goodness. I might need a break from it.

Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Potter's face. The man was biting down on his bottom lip as he finally sunk down onto Draco's length – the tight heat surrounding him was beyond anything he could even begin to describe. He saw those dark eyebrows scrunched downward as Potter slowly allowed him to slip inside his body and he felt Potter's breath across his face as he exhaled roughly. Draco took his flushed dick in his hand and began to stroke it slowly, wanting only to bring him pleasure, knowing it would help ease the discomfort.

“My god, that's... that's... oh-” Potter mumbled as he shifted his hips down another small increment, using his legs to push himself up and down until Draco's length was finally encased fully within him. They both groaned, Draco more so because he would no longer have to keep his hips still. He bucked up into him, pulling Potter forward to kiss him, wrapping his free hand around the back of his neck.

He pulled away when Potter started rocking atop him and Draco had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment, as the feeling of his arse gripping tightly and pulsing gently around him was just too much. 

“Are you alright?” Potter asked, panting slightly, his eyes half-lidded and dark when Draco looked up into them again. 

“Yeah... yeah, you?” Draco resumed stroking Potter's cock, keeping a steady rhythm, and slipping his other hand back down to hold Potter's hip. He let Potter do what he would, keeping his own hips pinned to the bed, not wanting to move too fast, afraid he wouldn't last long enough. If Potter was enjoying himself he wasn't going to ruin it.

Draco inhaled sharply when Potter suddenly lifted himself up and then let gravity drop him back down, burying him again in the tight, warm, exquisite heat of his arse. His legs quivered and he was unable to keep from jerking up into him, moaning when Potter ground down against him. And then Potter did it again, sliding up and then back down, his arse bouncing off the top of Draco's thighs as the speed of his movements increased.

“Potter... fuck...” Draco released Potter's cock and cupped the man's arse, helping to lift him up and then thrusting into him on the way back down. “Shit...” It was too much, too good, and Draco was coming, his hips snapping up in a way that was out of his control as he filled Potter with his release. Potter gave him a smile and stilled, settling himself down onto Draco's twitching pelvis.

That hadn't taken long. Draco felt like he should've been embarrassed about it but the sight of Potter riding him had been incredibly erotic and he was surprised he'd even lasted that long. 

“Sorry... god, your arse is just perfect,” he commented, feeling himself twitch inside said arse. Draco wondered if he could just keep going, if he could just stay hard and let Potter use him for his pleasure. Probably not. He reached down beside his leg and grabbed a wand, not even sure if it was his own or Potter's, and flicked a cleaning spell at the man's arse. 

“What...” Potter swallowed and then licked his dry lips, “what are you doing?” He had his fist around his cock and was stroking himself quickly, obviously trying to get himself off. Draco pulled the hand away and lifted Potter from his body, shuffling the man around on the bed until he was on all fours with Draco behind him. 

“I'm going to eat your arse out and then when I'm hard again I'm going to fuck you,” Draco replied nonchalantly, moving his hands up to spread Potter's arse cheeks so he could get a good look at his twitching and stretched little hole. He felt his mouth water - Draco loved sticking his tongue in Potter's arse. He leaned forward and pushed his slick tongue against the rim, slowly sliding inside with ease, flicking around his inner walls and moaning at the taste. 

“Fuck... yes, yes—please. Please,” Draco could feel Potter shaking as he sucked hard on the wrinkled skin of his opening, his tongue circling around and around as deep as he could get it. He held him open with his hands, his face pressed into his skin, his chin wet with saliva from how messily he ate him out. Potter was addicting, the sounds he made, the way he eagerly pushed himself back onto Draco's face – he felt himself starting to become hard again and reached down to stroke his cock, helping it along.

When he was fully erect again, Draco pulled away with one last indecently loud suck and then flipped Potter over onto his back. His green eyes were glazed over and his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Draco smiled down at him and lifted his legs up over his shoulder, lining himself up with Potter's saliva-slick entrance and nudging his way back inside. 

“Draco,” Potter moaned, fingers digging into Draco's upper arms as he slid forward in one long, smooth motion, burying himself completely in his perfect arse. The muscles in Potter's arse clenched around him hard like he was trying to keep him inside, but Draco pulled free anyway, leaving Potter completely empty once more. Potter whined, canting his hips forward, his legs shaking. Draco thrust forward into him again in the exact same manner, sheathing his penis as deeply as he could within the man before sliding back out again.

“Draco, please, need you, please,” Potter pleaded, moving his hands down to hold himself open, his face to the side and pressed partway into the pillow as he shifted his hips, impaling himself on Draco's length. Draco conceded and changed his position, fucking into him with quick, deep thrusts, searching for the spot that would bring Potter the most pleasure.

“There?” he asked, his voice deep and breathy, as he felt Potter's whole body tense up. Draco tried to keep the angle and he ground into what he guessed was Potter's prostate on the next thrust. Potter arched up, spreading his hips even wider, letting out a choked up moan at the sensation.

He moved quicker, fucking into him a little more roughly now that he knew he had the spot, his hips snapping hard against Potter's arse at the sound of the man chanting his name between moans. Draco looked down at Potter's cock, dribbling out pre-come from the tip, slicking his stomach in the sticky fluid. 

“Are you going to come for me, Harry?” he asked quietly, moving his mouth down to Potter's ear. Draco nipped at the lobe of it, his tongue peeking out to trace the shell. “Are you going to come from my cock pounding inside your arse, stretching you wide open, taking you and making you mine?” 

Potter nodded his head frantically, his eyes wide as he gasped out. Draco felt his anus clenching down rhythmically around him and knew the brunette was close. “I want to feel you come on my cock, Harry,” Draco moaned, thinking about how tight he would get from it, how fantastic he would feel around him, “Can you do that? Can you come just from me being inside you?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck Draco, please!” Potter shouted, sounding desperate and more needy than Draco ever thought he'd hear Potter become. “Harder! Fuck me harder!” Draco complied, moving into him as hard as he could, feeling Potter's whole body begin to tremble and tense up, hanging at the edge of his nearing orgasm. 

“Come for me, Harry,” he told him, watching in awe as the man did just that, shooting white fluid up along his stomach and chest with a long, drawn out groan of Draco's name, his arse clamping down around him like a vice so that he was forced to slow right down, rubbing himself against Potter's prostate to help continue drawing out his pleasure.


	11. Chapter 11

Waves of pleasure continued to crash over him - it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Harry wreathed against Malfoy, moaning brokenly as the man continued to move inside him, setting off fireworks behind his eyes with each thrust. He didn't know how much more he could take of the euphoric feeling before the stimulation to his senses became too overwhelming.

His fingers dug into Malfoy's backside, his eyes clenching shut as he sucked in a lungful of air. Malfoy's hips began to jerk unsteadily, grinding into him, making Harry feel more open and full, though he hadn't thought that to be possible as he was already stuffed full of his cock. Harry shuddered and shifted his hips up, his left leg slipping down from Malfoy's shoulder to the crook of his elbow, but it didn't seem to matter.

Staring at Malfoy's sublime countenance, he took in how mused he appeared to be - his rumpled hair, his mouth slack and panting, his blonde eyelashes unusually dark against his rosy cheeks. Harry slid his hand up along Malfoy's spine and into his hair, lifting his head up to mouth at a delectable looking spot just under the side of his jaw.

“Harry...”

He sucked on the chosen spot, hoping to leave a mark, wanting to feel like he had some sort of claim on the man. Malfoy's eyes fluttered open, barely, looking down at him as if he knew exactly what Harry was doing.

Moving his mouth up, he nibbled on Malfoy's ear, feeling incredibly naughty when he said, “Want you to come on me,” causing the man's breath to stutter.

“Yeah?” Malfoy asked on his next exhale, shifting forward to bring his mouth down against Harry's, nipping on his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded his head, clenching his arse deliberately, “all over me,” pulling Malfoy down harder against his mouth and slipping his tongue inside. Malfoy fucked into him a few more times, quickly and deeply, before pulling out with a groan. Harry looked down to watch him stroke himself, his strong hand moving swiftly along the slick, reddened length until a long, pearly strand of come shot out all across Harry's skin, followed by another, and another, making him shiver and tense up at how shockingly erotic it felt.

“Fuck,” Malfoy commented, lifting his head up, his smouldering grey eyes pinning Harry to the bed. Harry reached up to tug Malfoy down beside him, snogging him senseless until he couldn't breathe any more.

“That was brilliant,” Harry told him, tangling their legs together after reaching for his wand and making use of a quick _'evanesco'_ to rid them of the mess of lube and come their endeavours had brought about. He hoped Malfoy wasn't about to jump from the bed as he had done last time. Harry didn't do one-night stands. He wasn't the type of person to just have sex with someone for the fun of it.

Malfoy seemed likely to stay though as he had his eyes closed and his lips were quirked into a small smile. He appeared to be as content as Harry was to just lay there and bask in the afterglow. Sighing, Harry let his head sink down against his pillow, feeling warm and drowsy, thinking about the fact that he'd never felt so comfortable laying beside another person before as he currently did with Malfoy. The Slytherin was starting to grow on him. Of course, the mind blowing sex greatly helped matters along.

He couldn't stop staring at Malfoy – who'd have thought that all of that pent up aggression over the years could have lead to such a sensational experience. It'd had a passion to it that he'd never experienced before, leaving all memories of his other sexual encounters dull and boring in comparison. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud to Malfoy of course. Harry wondered if he lived up to whatever standards Malfoy was used to.

Malfoy shuffled back a bit and then sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and Harry was left with a terrible aching feeling inside his chest.

“Are you-are you leaving?” he asked in a small voice, hoping he didn't sound too desperate.

“I just need some water.”

Breathing in a sigh of relief, Harry nodded, “Well, I'll come with – I could use one too.”

He stood up from the bed and looked around the room for his underwear, quirking an eyebrow when he found Malfoy's black ones hanging precariously off his broomstick that was propped up against his desk. Smiling, he grabbed them and chucked them at Malfoy's head. Harry couldn't find his own so he threw on a new pair and they went to the kitchen to get themselves a drink.

“So, are you sure you want water? I have other things if you'd like,” he said, opening his refrigerator and ducking his head inside to look at what he actually had. Apparently, it was only a few beers, a half empty pitcher of juice, and one can of soda. Harry also had a decent stockpile of alcohol in his cupboard, but he was mostly sure that Malfoy wouldn't want to drink any more than he already had tonight.

“No, water is fine,” Malfoy replied, “Where do you keep your glasses?”

“Oh, yeah here,” Harry said, reaching up to the cupboard beside the sink to grab one for him and for himself as well. They both gulped down a glass each, awkwardly standing together in Harry's kitchen in silence. Well, it was a pleasant awkwardness that spoke of how odd it was that they were both there in just their under-things, watching each other out of the corner of their eyes, not really knowing what to say to each other.

Harry was about to say something, to ask Malfoy if he wanted to stay the night, when there was an abrupt knock at his door. He set his glass down, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as he looked at the time. It was way too late for visitors. Besides, everyone he knew was already aware that he had plans for the night.

“I'll be a moment...”

Malfoy nodded, filling his glass with some more water and leaning nonchalantly against the counter as he sipped at it.

The knocking continued, seeming to get louder the longer he failed to answer it. Harry wasn't sure who could be trying to come over so he peered through the peep hole to find out. When he saw who it was he grit his teeth together, his jaw going tense, his hands clenching into fists at his side. Really? His ex? What the hell did he want? On bated breath Harry pulled the door open just enough to peek his head around it.

“Harry, there you are. Were you sleeping? Sorry for waking you...” Michael began as soon as he'd seen Harry's scowling face, ignoring the fact that he was clearly annoyed at the man showing up unannounced.

“What do you want?” Harry said, cutting him off, just wanting Michael to leave so he could get back to Malfoy waiting for him in his barely dressed state. He wasn't in the mood for whatever crap his ex-boyfriend wanted from him. He just didn't care - especially after just having amazing sex with another man.

“I needed to talk to you. I wanted to apologize,” the blonde man said, stepping closer to the door.

“Look... just-just leave, okay.” Harry started closing the door but Michael's hand stopped it and Harry sighed as the man pushed his way inside, not wanting to deal with an altercation or argument with him. He ignored the once over the man gave him and folded his arms over his chest.

“Seriously, Michael, what do you want? You can't just barge in here. You don't live here any more.”

Harry tried to keep his voice low, not wanting Malfoy to overhear what was probably going to be a ridiculous discussion with his ex. It didn't matter. He groaned as Malfoy stepped from the kitchen, his grey eyes growing wide and then narrowing as he spotted Harry standing with Michael. The boxer-clad man came forward until he was standing beside Harry but he didn't say a word, just continued to glower, instantly drawing Michael's gaze to his form.

“Who in the hell is this, Harry?”

“None of your damn business,” Harry responded, his whole body thrumming with a sudden need to protect Malfoy from sight.

“Wow, Harry, I never took you for a slut. Looks like I was wrong,” Michael said in a degrading tone, his lip curling up into a sneer.

“Just shut your mouth and get out,” Harry replied, seething, stepping forward so that he could usher the man out quicker.

“Did you let him shag you? Is that why he's here? We've only been apart for less than two weeks – that sure was fast Harry.”

The grinding of his teeth was starting to become audible and Harry took Michael's upper arm in a tight grip and steered him toward the door. He was starting to become furious at his ex's blatant disregard for his privacy.

“No, I let him fuck me,” Malfoy responded, his voice cold and dangerous, his facial expression smug. It looked like he was either trying to defend Harry or trying to piss Michael off. Either way, Harry was somewhat grateful for the remark.

“And who the hell are you?” Michael asked before Harry could push him out the opened door.

“It's none of your business,” Harry said at the same time as Malfoy spoke.

“Draco Malfoy,” Malfoy easily answered.

Harry was shocked, not expecting Malfoy to disclose who he was. If Michael decided to be a jerk he could spread just about anything he wanted on Malfoy to just about anyone. He hoped that wouldn't happen. Malfoy didn't deserve that.

“Okay, time for you to leave,” he said, moving into action again and trying to push Michael out through the doorway. The man stood his ground, becoming almost immovable.

“No, I want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don't. So get out.”

Michael looked down at him and put his hand over the one that was gripping his arm, prying Harry's fingers from around it and stepping back into the house. He slammed the door shut behind him.

“Look, tell your little whore to leave so we can talk, Harry,” Michael said, speaking gently in the way he usual did when he wasn't getting anywhere with Harry and wouldn't back down because he always got what he wanted. He couldn't believe the man. It was his house. Harry was close to going and grabbing his wand to use on the stubborn arse.

But he didn't have to.

“I'd leave if I were you,” Malfoy said from behind him. Harry turned around and took in the sight of a furious Draco Malfoy, wand extended, face pinched into a snarl, half naked and looking so fit that a thrum of arousal shot through Harry's body.


End file.
